Page 125 of The Forever Play

“We won’t get to the playoffs if we don’t win this game,” I hiss.

“Yes, we will!” His clipboard slaps against his leg as he lowers his arms, then looks around the locker room. Everyone is staring at us, and I can’t hold their gazes.

“Dude, what the fuck happened at Kelsey U?” Grady quietly asks me.

I shake my head. We went through this last year, and I refused to tell them then. I’m not about to open up that ugly-ass can of worms right now. They’ll never respect me again.

“Zander,” Coach sighs. “I know you want to win this game. I get it. And I understand that you want to be the guy on the field when you do it, but our team is about more than tonight. It’s about more than one game, and I won’t see you get injured over this. They’re playing mean and dirty, but just clean enough not to get penalized.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure their gameplay is to kill you, bruh.” Tyrell shakes his head. “We’re doing everything we can to protect you, but…” He hisses. “It’s getting rough out there.”

I close my eyes, hating how right they are.

Hating that history is repeating itself, just like it did last year.

I don’t want to be on the sidelines. I want to be in the action, throwing perfect passes and running those plays that make me so fucking good on the field.

“Please, Coach,” I try one last time.

He huffs, resting his hands on his hips and looking at Tyrell.

My friend gives me a doubtful frown but eventually gives in with a resigned huff. “We’ll keep him safe.”

“One more hard hit and you’re off.” Coach points the clipboard at me. “I mean it, Zander.”

“Got it.” I nod, lifting my chin at Tyrell as a silent thank-you.

He just shakes his head and turns to check on his offensive line while I mentally gear up for a second half that I know will be brutal.

Carson and Grady flank me as we run out of that tunnel. Carson is fired up, ready to dish out a little hellfire of his own. One thing I love about the guy—he’s loyal and will bust his knuckles for anyone in our house if he has to.

And that’s exactly what he does the minute we step back onto the field.

“Thought Coach would have benched your sorry ass,” Biggs sneers as I run out for our first offensive play. “You obviously like my kind of punishment, Donohue. Does it get you off, having your ass handed to you?”

“Get the fuck away from him.” Carson shoves the guy back with a growl.

Biggs immediately springs back, ready to pummel my friend. I move into the defensive, Grady right beside me as we protect our own, and a quick scuffle ensues.

The crowd roars as I shove and push back where I can, desperate to throw a punch but smart enough not to.

“That’s it! Break it up!” The referees and coaches are yelling at us, tugging us away from one another, and we end up getting into position like irate bulls. My chest is heaving, my heart thundering as I eye up the Titans’ defensive line.

They’re glaring back at me. I’m a piece of trash that’s about to get scrunched into a ball and thrown away.

“Fuck you, Donohue!” some guy calls from the end of the line.

I don’t even know who he fucking is.

It’s clear the rumors about me are still rife. It kills me that the only version they’ll hear is the one about how I broke the captain’s jaw and ended up in jail for the night. They only know the twisted version of why I left Kelsey U and escaped to Nolan for a fresh start.

They have no idea how desperate and ashamed I was.

All they see is a traitor.

And they’re out for my execution.

We’ve gotta win this game.

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